


Infantry Controller

by Kameiko



Category: Deus Ex (Video Game 2000)
Genre: Action, Assassins & Hitmen, Gen, Injury Recovery, Manipulation, Missions, Negotiations, On the Run, stealth - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25399093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kameiko/pseuds/Kameiko
Summary: Paul offers Jensen a non-negotiable peace of mind.
Comments: 29
Kudos: 9





	Infantry Controller

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zireael07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zireael07/gifts).



_Hm, He should be hiding right around here…_ Paul looks up from his map to view the deadbeat surroundings around him. Golem City, the once lively city filled with a promising future desecrated over time due to the aug incident, deadly viruses with a temporary antidote spreading across the world, downfall of many enemy resistances, and of course, natural with some questionable causes from the environment. Paul would know about the weather damage. He nearly fell right through the grate that’s considered permanent flooring a few feet back. He’s lucky he carried a backpack with mountain climbing gear inside. He figured he would need it considering the condition of this place.

 _Makes me wonder how he even gets around much less survive on the minimal rations of this abandon place._ Paul looks at the abandoned greenhouse that’s overrun with weeds and dried up carrots growing from the unfertilized soil. He pulls one out and examines the texture before placing it in his pocket, grunting with disgust. Wouldn’t be worse for wear back where he stays when his employer doesn’t want to pay him the bare minimum when his mistakes don’t outweigh the good job he does. In fact, that’s why he’s here. To bring back a man that is said to be a valuable asset to UNATCO and apparently to settle Gunther’s personal grudge. _I’ve never seen him that angry before. He’s been beaten by dogs before, but not to this extent where he lets his attitude guard down._

Not paying attention to where he’s walking again, he ends up tripping over downed power line and ends up sledding down a slope. He loses his footing and his body rolls down with immense pressure. He grabs for a piece of metal sticking out of the ground. It gives away under his weight, and he continues tumbling downwards till he hits his head on a piece of broken concrete at the bottom, sending his vision to a sea of uneasiness. _Damnit! I can’t die like this…_ Paul’s seeing white, maybe the shining light around the blood that’s coming out of his nose. There’s an echo of footsteps making their way towards him. A pair of old worn out brown boots with a hole on one of the big toes stop right in front of his sense of smell. Letting out a small laughter he makes a mental note to tell the guy here to either save of kill him to wash his augmented feet. Rust and Fiber smell like a bad combination of vodka and rotten eggs. Not a particularly good joke, but if the angel of death has come for him, then he can laugh in tis face all he likes. However, he can’t even make out who the voice is that’s cursing at him for being reckless as he passes out. 

_Wake up._ Paul winces at the voice in his head telling him to get up. He feels like his head has been struck by a freight train. _Wake up, you need to take these painkillers to help with your head injury. Sorry, there are no doctors around here, so I suggest you take these and go back to wherever you came from as quickly as you came here._ That’s not death. Paul rubs his eyes to rid himself of the blurry vision. Looking up he sees a long-lost piece of history kneeling down next to his bag right in front of his eyes. This man has heavily embedded mechanical parts nearly from head to toe. He’s only read about such extensive augmentations in books. Yes, he’s aware one of his comrades has such limitations, but he gets special privileges and maintenance. This straggly black-gray haired man with the tired bags under his starting to wrinkle skin doesn’t have those luxuries nor does he look like the man he’s looking for. Doesn’t help he has only a semi-in focus picture tucked away in his bag either.

The man pulls out a group picture of Paul, Anna, and Gunther. All smiling and holding up bunny fingers behind each other’s heads. Anna had to stand on top of a box to read the tall man’s head. Squinting, the man crumbles the picture up and throws it to the side. Paul doesn’t understand the insensitive gesture and goes to open his mouth before the other shuts him down by holding a hand up in front of his face. _Don’t you speak of my non-remorseful kindness. I did you a favor by showing you my side of the story towards this man that I have no words for to how he’s still alive. My multiple punches to his head the first time over…two decades go?...apparently didn’t make their point the first time. Second time is the reason I am here. Don’t give me a third. You damn well know I am not stupid enough to believe you weren’t followed here by your companions._ Realization fully hits him that this man is the one he’s truly looking for. He’s Adam Jensen! So many questions are plaguing his brain.

Adam seems to have some questions himself, and he’ll get the answers he needs through his usual magpie habits. He pulls out Paul’s orders and zips through it. _I like how Manderley still has my handsome face from my time in the Task Force plastered in his mind. Can’t say age did him well with his face._ Adam tosses the folder back in the bag. Nothing else of importance catches his eye. He zips the bag back up and gently lobs it next to Paul’s head. Placing his worn-out hands on his hips he starts pacing back and forth. He’s slightly on edge. His alerts behind him haven’t gone off, no traps he placed around the premises detected any hidden motion, and no sounds of a helio dropping off any unexpected guests.

 _I expected an ambush, not a surprise visit from agents of the new world order. What gives and don’t even think about lying to me. I might be primitive to your new technology, but my lie detector still works. I won’t bother giving you the name of it, as you probably already know what it is with the way your face lights up. I didn’t even need to release any pheromones to alter that sense of security of yours._ Adam kicks away some debris near one of his computer monitors. He scans the cameras he has set up around to see if there’s something he missed. Every calculations matter when his life and safety come into play. Only to be met with dead silence as an old school drop. Shit. Adam rubs his face, clearing the sleep from his face. He’s been up for many days now, scourging around the abandoned city for any remaining parts to make Biocells or anything that can help with his failing body. His old boss and his company are no longer around, and he be damned if he goes anywhere near one of the illuminati-controlled facilities.

Paul looks up from his bag when he sees Adam knock some things off his table and falls to the ground in a displaced sitting position. He looks like he wants to scream into the void that just listens without a solution or up to the high heavens that will lend no ear and a pitiful ray of mocking sunshine. He gets that. The feeling of everything collapsing around him with no hopes to a better future. No promises for this, but if he comes back with him…then he can at least promise that he’ll be alive to kick peoples assess another day. Make the offer to live or die a lonely and possibly painful one where he’ll just be a torso starving to death on the floor when his limbs fully give out. _That’s a ridiculous offer. You’re talking about sending me to the one person that I fought and lost a long hard battle with to take down. What kind of fool do you take me for? I lost friends, companions, and acquaintances in this hopeless battle to help humanity. Why does my presence to your boss mater? My DNA is already tainted in my body due to health complications and non-working parts. Let me live my life out here with my cheap cigarettes and loneliness. I might even improve on my gardening skills before my green farmers thumb gives out._

Adam shows his left hand where the remote part of his thumb is damaged. A spinning red circle on the outer pad is clearly evident. Screw the backwards thinking of someone coming for Adam to kick his ass, he would take the loss before he even took a step forward. The man is technically homeless, starving his last breaths on rotten carrots and a half-assed working energy converter, and losing his mental stability to the birds that keep him company. Paul tries again, with a simpler and more thorough explanation. A threat. He tells him if he leaves empty handed, he will be unable to lie to his boss. He’s already postponed in contact of his crew that are waiting in another location for as long as he could. If he waits any longer then they’re going to come here, tear this place apart, and hunt Adam down to the strips of the water crashing underneath him. _Cute. I’ll get the pleasure of dumping your body in the crevice underneath me where you’ll never be found if they blow this place to bits. Then again, you don’t seem like the type that truly doesn’t have anyone to mourn over you. You’re too easy to read, boy._

That tactical comment cuts through Paul’s emotions like a hot knife. He has his brother that is still young and naive, but he’s good at what he does for his age. Paul can’t say the same for himself, and he’s the older brother. Grunting, he sits up fully to clear any vertigo he’s going to encounter. So much for any threats of prolonged torture by oneself. He thought he had that idea down to the T after reading this mans case file. Not as open as a short graphic novel, but a professionally full length written one. What about any colleagues left to threaten? He lived in the inner city of Prague for a while, surely there’s someone there who kept under the radar. He grunts again when trying to think of a list of names. He clutches his head, trying to ease the throbbing pain a bit. Damn, he wishes he had some painkillers on him. 

_Here. I don’t know how effective they will be given how outdated medication is now, but maybe the placebo results will trick your body._ Adam tosses a medicine bottle to Paul. He misses the catch and watches the bottle fall to the ground, cap popping open, and all the little pills scatter around. What a frustrating sight for Paul. Can’t even catch a simple bottle with a non-toddler proof cap. Bending down, he picks it up, and pops a couple in his mouth. Dry swallowing the best his throat will let him. _I’d toss you some water, but you might get dysentery if I let you drop it on the ground._ Adam goes to his utility sink behind him and fills up a cup of water and hands it to him. Paul is thankful and takes a sip. Nasty tasting but beggars can’t be choosers, even if they don’t understand why the enemy is helping them after a death threat. Where’s the sensible logic? Maybe dementia is also plaguing the old man’s mind.

 _Kindness shown to the enemy is my friend of understanding and compromise._ An admission of guilt or sway of emotions. Paul’s not sure if the infiltration worked. He doesn’t feel all that different, but the urge to escape this room rises. He’s running out of time with staying on radio silent. The sirens are going to sound off shortly, and…he grits his teeth and dumps the rest of the water on the ground, throwing the cup down, watching it break into tiny pieces. Adam quirks an eyebrow at the reaction. What’s this supposed to be about? Throw a tantrum knowing that the mission is a failure?

 _You don’t look ungrateful for what I just gave you. Teach a man a fishing lesson, and this is what he gets in return?_ Paul ignores the jab. He picks up his bag and makes his way for the door. Adam doesn’t try to stop him when he exits. He knows in three, two, and one…bam! Paul falls to his knees and starts to throw up the water. He didn’t let the pills do their job. He gets up and helps the other get back to his feet. Paul pushes him away, telling him he doesn’t need his help. He’ll just make the phone call when the room stops spinning into a winding staircase. He gets no knight to catch his fall this time. _Stupid kid. Whoever you are, I hope your body has insurance, because I am going to need it when I use you as a shield to take over the helicopter._

The chopper lands off in the distance. UNATCO troops storm out of it with their guns, and start running towards where Paul’s signal last informed them. When they arrive to Jensen’s place it’s completely empty of human life. The leader tells their team to be on their guard and search the area for any signs of augmented activity, and to be aware of any cloaking devices! As they search, Adam is making his way, with Paul on his back, through a secret compartment he installed years ago. Lucky for him the door didn’t rust shut. When he gets to the chopper, he sees that the place is almost completely unguarded. Go figure that the pilot would be asleep at the helm. Underestimating the enemy like this will lead to serious reprimands. He places Paul in the passenger’s seat next to him and he climbs in the front, knocking the pilot out of the vehicle. The pilot wakes up in an instant and starts screaming for Jensen to stop what he’s doing and to come out of there. Jensen gives a two-finger salute to the other and takes off. Being in self-isolation this long he studied up on some flying techniques as a good student. He had a great teacher to show him before she disappeared completely off the map a few years ago. He doesn’t know what happened to her or really any of his friends. He knew many were dead, but…right now he can’t think about the what Ifs. Squinting forward, he places the chopper on autopilot with set coordinates. Now, all he has to do is wait. He hopes there’s enough distance between here and a bookstore before backup is called.

Paul wakes up when he feels himself being lifted up bridal style. Looking up he sees that Adam is running down the street and weaving in and out of crowds. Where’s he taking him? Where are they? He’s looking around at the confused faces, and others have looks of concerns. They’re trying to stop Adam and are screaming at him that he’s going in the wrong direction if he’s trying to get to the hospital. He tells them to mind their business. They eventually get to a rundown bookstore that looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in two decades, which probably has been. The power is out, and there’s no one manning the cash register. In fact, Paul’s certain that Adam used an older model of the multi-tool to get in. Does this mean the owner might be dead since his alarm system is grandpa old?

Adam maneuvers through fallen bookcases and stacks of books to make it to the backroom. He prays to whoever he can hear him that the little red book still works. He pulls it out, and with a little creak the doors open up. Yes! He enters the elevator and places Paul down on the ground. He himself then collapses. The run here took every amount of energy he had left to make it in one piece. He just hopes the scrambler he ran through Paul’s system through those pain medications he took earlier is still working. Just enough time for whoever is down here to disable the tracker permanently.

 _Click_. A sound of a gun. Jensen gets in a fighting stance, pulling out a side arm from a holster on his leg. Unsteady arms swinging wildly around while using his glitchy augmented vision to seek out some infrared form. Nothing abnormal is popping up on any of his radar. Then again, he doesn’t trust his outdated technology much less his new natural eyes. He turns off the vision when there’s nothing popping up on his miniature map that is also not showing up correctly. Shit. Adam taps his forehead, hoping for something to start working just for a damn second! _Clock_. His hearing works. He turns to where the sound is coming from. He faces a woman with curly medium length black hair and piercing hazel eyes that have a strong look that says she’s ready to kill if she has to. She looks like she’s in her early 20’s.

“You’re not very bright to leave your friend there in the elevator.” She points her gun at the unconscious Paul. “Drop the gun. I know your system is on the fritz. The only reason you and your trespassing friend is alive right now instead of swiss cheese, because you knew of the red book.” She’s referring to the updated turrets hanging around the elevator entrance. That’s a new installment.

Adam drops the gun and kicks it to her. She picks it up and points the new one at him. “Get your friend and don’t try anything fishy, old man.”

Adam grabs Paul by his armpits and drags him out of the elevator and places him in the chair located in the middle of the room. Great to see his old doctor’s torture device is still sitting over the massive amount of hanging limbs that now have their fair share of mold and rust, just like himself. Looking He continues to scan the room to see that the place is mostly cleaned out of stuff from his era of mechanical limbs, besides the elephants in the room, and replaced with more nanotechnology related terms. Even the posters of the metalhead bands were replaced with some techno rave looking ones. He’s assuming that’s what the kids call this genre of music, but he really just doubts this is anything new judging by how bad the art is with the sunglasses and hanging strobe lights.

“You going to keep judging me for my taste, grandpa?” She tosses Adam’s gun back to him with ease. He ends up not catching it and crashes to the floor. “Jesus Christ, almighty! You really are broken!”

 _I didn’t expect you to trust me so easily._ He refrains from telling her about his Quicksilver disability due to embarrassment. Not even his TITAN would do him any good against minor things such as BB-guns or even a super soaker water gun. To the point: he’s just a literal and metaphorical broken mess that an ant with one leg can crush him by biting his augmented compacted big toe, he won’t admit the mental instability to anyone. Shaking his head, he picks up his gun and places it back in its safety position before putting it away. _Just fix him first. This reckless idiot obviously can’t take care of himself. After that, give me something to make me more relevant or a drug my body will actually not try to Hulk out._

“You that special?” She goes over to Paul and examines his head. She moves it side to side just like a child would do when discovering a new toy. “These military types always get the best treatment and toys.”

Adam laughs. _If you say so. Judging by what I know he stays in pretty unkempt places._ Can afford a hotel room but not rent. The outside world really has gone Topsy-Turvy in America. She gives him a look that speaks of: really? Adam shrugs, forgetting that not everyone is isolated as him now. _What’s your name? You related to Vaclav Koller by any chance?_

She pauses her examination to let out a big sigh and an eye roll so high. “You’re not the first person who has asked me that! Is it the curls that give away my identification?”

 _You want me to answer that sarcastically or truthfully that you definitely have a trait showing of someone that’s not inherently your father?_ She turns to the dumb man and throws a wrench laying on the ground at him. There’s that spunk. Adam barely is able to get away. _You might want to concentrate on him instead. He’s chipped, and the drugs in his system will only keep him scrambled for a little while longer._

“Then I should just kill you both right now and abandon the ship! You two idiots compromised me!” She goes to throw more things at Adam but stops when Paul starts to groan. She glares at him and goes back to her patient. “You’re lucky I am in a good mood.”

What would a bad mood look like? Jensen doesn’t get time to converse his thoughts as Paul is starting to freak out over the unfamiliar surroundings. That’s right. He has no idea where he is, so acting out like this wouldn’t be abnormal. He nearly hits the girl who steps away just in time before she’s clocked in the face. Jensen steps in and slaps Paul in the face, knocking him back into his senses. _Clearly, you’re not as concussed as I thought since you have enough strength in your unstable nervous system to smack around your newly registered doctor. I don’t have time for this boy. Let the doctor treat you, so I can get my own over and done with it!_

“I am an unlicensed nano expert, grandpa! Not some brain surgeon!” She lets out an exasperated sigh. Time to examine the liability in front of him before she gets shot or stabbed by unknown weapons. Pulling out a scanner she moves it around Paul’s head, and examines the computer behind her for anything unusual. “The electronic x-rays are only showing a minor bump on the head. I can give you some painkillers for it, and maybe a glass of water. You’ll need to lie down for a couple of days.”

He asks her why he has to lie down. There’s no time with what’s already implanted in his body if not checked. Her response, “Because with the way you react to every little thing you can bump your head easily against a soft pillow and still somehow knock yourself unconscious!” Touché.

Adam crosses his arms and leans against the wall behind him. _Ok, there’s still the matter of his nano bits being used against him in a one-off situation. What do you suggest we do about this? We can’t just keep jumping from place to place every time I inject him with shots. He needs sleep, I need sleep, and I am on the verge of showing my crankiness of sleep deprivation to the next corrupt individual that crosses my path._

“Sorry, I can’t help you with that. I would literally have to open his body cavity up to pick out microscopic pieces of whatever the hell is in him.” She waves him off. “As for you, grandpa, as I mentioned earlier, I can’t do really anything for you because of lack of production, but I can make things comfortable for you.”

 _I know I’m ready to die, lady, but I don’t want to waste my last breath down here with someone who won’t even give me their name!_ Jensen’s words are hypocritical. He trusted Paul, a man he doesn’t even know or trust, with this woman, and what’s the issue? Well, none of them trust one another. The only thing that’s on equal footing is the respect of morality here…and that’s not saying much with the given manifesting situation. Formal ground is beginning to rise, but there’s no patience for it. Adam slams his hand against the wall, causing a snowflake crack to appear. This doesn’t hurt him, but there’s signals going to hie PEDOT warning him not to do that again. He curses to himself and realizes this is really a shitty situation. He might just have to think of the other alternative.

“Parental instincts are kicking you in the ass?” She feels sorry for Adam knowing what he’s going through. Her own bad past of her family haunts her at times, but she knows when a parental like figure, assuming this is his son, is struggling with their own conflicts and ability to do what’s right. Difference is sometimes what’s best or right interferes with judgement.

Adam perks up at that question, and Paul is staring at her like she’s gone lost her marbles. _I am not his father, and he’s sure as Hell is not my son._

“You’ve done an awful lot for this man then for not being your kid.” She hands Paul a bottle of water. He thanks her and starts chugging it, pretending he’s not hearing this conversation.

 _How do you know I just don’t have a hero complex?_ He barks defensively at her. She raises her hands up in defense before apologizing. She really doesn’t get it. He’s just…he’s just being himself and not wanting to see this young man throw his life down the shitter over this. _Sorry. I am not used to being around people again. I’ve been a hermit for what feels like 40 years. Everyone I know has either left me moved on or died._

“You temporarily have me till I kick you out.” She goes to her fridge and takes out some meat and bread. “Sandwiches?”

Paul’s stomach growls. He’s hungry, and after nearly having his brains scrambled, he’s ready for the meats. Too bad he’s not allowed to stand up, Jensen threatened that he would melt him to the chair if he even lifted his foot from the pedestal. The tone in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by any of them. They all look the other way and pretended like this is another normal day for their normalcy. This is the least Paul can do after the man saved his life by obeying him like a slave.

“Please keep in mind these are to go.” She places the food in little clear bag. “Cold water bottles are the fridge, and there’s a bottle of drugs with an blocker syringe, only good for one dose; so I suggest you two decide what the next course of action is, because it’s not going to be here.”

Adam doesn’t hesitate to inject the drugs into Paul’s neck. He complains about the lack of giving a consent yes to being filled with more shit then intended, but he’s silenced again by the glare and remembering to obey. He sighs and stands up with the help of Adam. What’s the point of even trying to be reasonable? The two say their farewells to the nameless woman and leave through the back sewer. They didn’t want to risk going up the way they came from due to possible police tip off presence. When Jensen uncovers the manhole, he peaks up to see that they’re in a part of Prague that is unfamiliar to him. Things really have changed, because this is the same route, he came from all those years ago, but the surroundings are foreign. He gets out and helps Paul to the surface.

Paul points to a small abandoned café they could hide out in while they talked. Adam reluctantly agreed. He’s still playing the situation at hand with caution, but with the cards dealt to him an Ace didn’t make it apart of the agreement. He really is out of options at this stage. He can’t just knock Paul out and dump him somewhere. UNATCO would tear this place apart, kill more innocent people, just to find any hint of him being here. Probably bring out the sniffing dogs that track down certain soldiers. Jensen didn’t want anymore of that on his conscious. He’s already killed many with him realizing the damage or not. This is now his game of jacks, and he doesn’t want any part of the Joker.

 _UNATCO, huh…Sounds like a luxury place for me to get poked and prodded._ Jensen spits to the side out of spite. Paul looks around the surrounding area, purposely ignoring Adam’s little rant speech about how he’s about to be given little to no choice on the matter like it matters anymore. The walls are decorated with posters of happy augmented couples sharing a latte and cookie with one another. Drawings of peaceful people asking for love from the naturals. All yellowed and faded from a long-ago era that once held sugary coffee goodness. Paul doesn’t remember what that’s like, being raised in a time of chaos, and being forced to work for the man or die by unknown causes or agents reasoning. Really not liked among the big crowds. Maybe when he gets back to base, he could learn how to make an ice coffee. Sometimes with the lack of sleep he gets anyways he might as well dip his nose in good joe.

Adam sees that look of ease on Paul’s face. He fucking hates it. Gripping the worn-out table he flips it, causing the younger to jump up in surprise. He leans over and points a finger right in front of his problems face. _You think you’re cute with all this shit don’t you? Pushing me into a corner the way you’re babbling about how I can’t take care of myself or how I can’t survive out here in this big bad world that has long tried to forget about me. Where has all the good gone? Evil likes to lurk in the corners of my peripheral vision, and its presence thinks I wouldn’t notice?_ Adam points to Paul’s trembling enclosed hand. Don’t think he didn’t pick up on that tiny device that cancels out everything that blocks even the faintest of jamming signals. Adam grits his teeth in frustration. He knew he should’ve thrown the bag and boy out. Nothing but trouble for his demented and troubled life. _How long do I have before the streets start rallying with soldiers here to take me away to their wonderful resort? The fallen State of Liberty isn’t on my bucket list but here we are._

The sound of a helicopter above them answers the question. Soldiers quickly enter the place with their lethal guns out and aimed at Adam, ready to fire upon the man at the first sign of resistance. Adam grimaces at the sight of how many guns there are and holds his hands up. He knows when he’s defeated, since his TITAN shield would barely last five seconds, not enough time for an escape…and the innocent people that would die because of him put a damper on his plans. One soldier comes up to him with EMP cuffs and places them on Adam. Shades retract, and his tired worn out golden irises glare holes at the masked man. Hatred spewing, the urge to spit at them rising, and is instantly calmed down when he’s knocked out by a blunt object from behind. When he awoke, he’s seated in a brown comfortable chair located in what appeared to be in a very important office that’s decorated with the bare minimum necessities to show there’s a commander in charge.

Pitiful that his cuffs are still on him. He couldn’t kick back and get excited to blunder these idiots with whatever blades he could conjure out of the port in his arm. He scoots the rolling chair up and kicks the desk. Only the fake plant shook for a millisecond out of it’s falsehood of fear. Typical behavior from the succulent life. He knocks it over like an angry cat that doesn’t give a shit, and wants to watch the world burn. He’s done with everything and all the temperaments around the desk with its pens, paperclips, sticky notes, papers, nameplate saying: Joseph Manderley. Adam doesn’t have time to register the running thoughts, because the door behind him opens and he turns around to see Paul standing next to his master with his head hanging downwards in a guilt-stricken fashion…and a smug Manderley standing there. His lips thin when he sees a smirk on the elder’s face. Hands are behind his back, that stupid shit eating grin on his face showing that he has won again, and he has the audacity to say to him in the most cliché condescending voice: Welcome to UNATCO, Adam Jensen. We’ve been expecting you. _Sure you have. When do I get my tour of the grand place?_ Two new patrons enter the room, one Adam remembers all too well with how many grudge matches they’ve had with one another, and the other? He has never seen her before.

The two crack their knuckles, eager to break in the new recruit, clearly not caring how old Jensen is. Adam glares at Manderley and repeats himself… _Sure you have._ This is going to be Hell of a way to die if he decides to resist now, but Adam’s not ready for his present death awakening. He gives a final look at Paul before he’s dragged off to med bay to get patched up. Paul looks behind him and gulps at that sight of betrayal. He’s not ready for the future rude awakening either.


End file.
